One and Only
by wanderingquill21
Summary: The progression of Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott's relationship as shown through 5 drabbles.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

 **Word Count:** 385

 **Notes:**

 **The 5 Drabbles Competition:** Prompt Used—laughter

Even after everything that had happened, after everything they'd suffered and endured and withstood, the sight of the enormous castle with its stony turrets and tiny pinpricks of warm light marking the windows still had the power to take his breath away. Neville stared up at it, hesitating in front of the entrance. After the battle, it had seemed like he'd never want to return here again, and he'd had half a mind to follow in the footsteps of some of his fellow seventh years and declare himself a graduate; but now, standing in front of the giant stone building, Neville was glad he'd returned.

But he'd lingered too long in the doorway, and a brush against his shoulder reminded him to keep moving. Crossing the threshold, he turned to apologize for the collision, finding himself face-to-face with a familiar blonde girl. "Hannah!" He gave her a small smile, relieved to see a familiar face.

"Neville, hi," she said breathlessly, a harried expression on her face as she continued to walk toward the Great Hall. Neville lengthened his strides to keep up. "I didn't know you'd be coming back this year, too."

Neville shrugged. "I hadn't been planning on it, but I didn't learn much seventh year. Wanted to give it another go." In truth, he'd felt rather lost without school, drifting around from place to place, trying to find his role. His friends all had important jobs, hunting down the remaining Death Eaters or reforming laws or helping pick up the pieces of the wizarding world, but he'd felt rather useless, unqualified for any of those tasks. So he'd come back; and despite the welcome familiarity of Hogwarts, he couldn't help but feel that something vital had been taken from the school during that final battle.

Hannah turned and smiled as they continued their trek to the Great Hall. "Me, too," she said softly. Taken by surprise at her smile, Neville lost his footing and stumbled. Embarrassed, he flushed, intending to disappear into the crowd; but the light, tinkling noise he got in response changed his mind. Glancing at Hannah, he realized she was laughing—and not cruelly, but in a happy, carefree way that he hadn't heard in far too long. The sense of embarrassment dissipating, Neville grinned, suddenly glad he'd come back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

 **Word Count:** 314

 **Notes:**

 **The 5 Drabbles Competition:** Prompt Used—pajamas

Hannah pulled her feet under her, smiling as she settled into the couch and holding the take-out they'd called in aloft. A warm fire was flickering merrily in the corner, but she still shivered. "Hurry up!" she called, hugging her knees to her chest. Their new apartment was drafty—but Hannah wouldn't change it for the world; after all, she had the best apartment-mate to share it with.

"I'm coming," his voice called from their wreck of a bedroom. A dull thump sounded from the bedroom, sending a small vibration through the couch, and Hannah heard what sounded like a hushed string of curses. She laughed quietly until Neville appeared in the doorway a moment later, rubbing his knee and smiling sheepishly.

"About time," she said with a grin, patting the seat beside her invitingly. He wove his way over to her, dodging boxes and stepping over loose items until he was able to lower himself down beside her. The couch cushion under her tilted toward him at his added weight, sliding her closer to Neville—not that she minded. Worming her way under his arm, she leaned into his warmth, inhaling the fresh scent of his aftershave.

He smiled down at her, teeth gleaming in the dim lighting. "I had to dig through a fair few boxes before I found these," he explained. She glanced down at his pajama pants and laughed; bright yellow and covered in a pattern of small racing brooms, they looked more fitting for a young boy than her husband.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you find your sippy cup in the same box?" she teased, smiling up at him. He flicked her nose in response, and she giggled.

Pressing a warm kiss to her cheek, he responded, "They may look foolish, but I didn't intend to have them on for long."

Hannah felt tingles running down to her toes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

 **Word Count:** 383

 **Notes:**

 **The 5 Drabbles Competition:** Prompt Used—watermelon

The wind whipped over the top of Stoatshead hill, bending the grass so that it lay nearly horizontally against the ground. The sun peeked its head around the peak, its rays stretching out welcomingly to the family that was slowly making their way up the steep, rocky landscape. Two young children tugged on their parents' hands, aching to stretch their legs and run over the wide expanse of swaying green grass. One of the children turned to his father, pleadingly asking to go play with his sister.

Chuckling, Neville turned to his wife. "I think we out to let them go before they pull off our hands." She smiled in return, nodding in agreement, and they turned their children loose. The blonde boy sprinted off, laughing, his dark-haired sister squealing and chasing him. Switching the picnic basket to his other hand, Neville reached for Hannah's now-free hand as she reached for his, and they entwined their fingers, swinging their arms loosely as they wove their way up the hill, the wind-whipped grass tickling at their ankles.

Reaching the top, Neville unloaded the wicker basket as their children ran circles around them, giggling and playing what looked to be an unofficial game of tag. Pulling out a red-and-white checkered blanket, Neville spread it over the bucking grass, struggling to keep the corners down in the wind until Hannah stepped on one side, smiling down at him.

"Kids," she called, hair whipping in the wind that nearly carried her voice away. She motioned them over, bending to sit on the blanket and gesturing for them to join her. They did, albeit reluctantly, continuing to giggle as the settled down on the blanket beside their parents. Neville pulled out the slices of watermelon he'd packed for them, handing them first to the kids, then to Hannah. He smiled contentedly at her as they crunched into the juicy fruit, though she didn't notice, too busy showing their children how to pick out the seeds. He gazed at her, contemplating his own luck as she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and laughing at something their daughter had said. The afternoon passed in a blur of slurps and crunches and giggles, at the end of which there was not a speck of the watermelon left.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

 **Word Count:** 394

 **Notes:**

 **The 5 Drabbles Competition:** Prompt Used—forest green

Hannah didn't think she'd ever been more anxiously tightly wound: not during exams, not during N.E.W.T.s—not even during the Battle of Hogwarts. She paced at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, moon shining down on her, covering the courtyard in an ominous glow and causing the normally bright green trees to appear darker, looming over her as she waited. For the hundredth time in the past hour, she wondered what on earth had possessed her son to wander into the forest at night. Had she and her husband done this? They both worked at the school now, she as Matron and her husband as the Herbology professor—perhaps their son had felt that he had to prove himself to the other kids, distinguish himself from his parents.

She shook her head, crossing and uncrossing her arms before glancing back at the trees that formed a forest green blockade, preventing her eyes from penetrating their depths. She'd agreed to wait at the edge of the forest at her husband's bequest in case their son returned before his father found him. But the logic hadn't seemed to matter as Hannah had watched Neville's form grow smaller, finally being swallowed up by the darkness of the forest. She couldn't help but fear she'd lose them both, and she chewed her nails while she waited.

As the sun began to peak over the tops of the trees, spreading a rosy glow that failed to warm Hannah's fear-frozen heart, her eyes locked onto a section of branches that rustled not too far from her. Heart thumping, she moved closer and had nearly reached the spot when her husband and son broke through the trees, looking exhausted. Hannah broke into a run, closing the distance between them and enclosing them in a hug.

"It's alright, Hannah, we're alright," her husband's calming voice murmured in her ear. She pulled back to look him in the eyes, touching his face lightly before turning to her son. He looked up at her tiredly, his blonde hair mussed with dirt and leaves.

Reaching out, she grasped his shoulder as if to make sure he was real, relieved smile breaking through the worry before the look turned stern. "Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again!" she scolded. But she pulled him into a hug, taking some of the sting out of the words.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

 **Word Count:** 352

 **Notes:**

 **The 5 Drabbles Competition:** Prompt Used—"Centuries" by Fall Out Boy

 _And you're a cherry blossom, you're about to bloom._

 _You look so pretty but you're gone so soon._

The bright sun smiled down on the yellowing grass, red and gold leaves rustling playfully in the breeze. The loveliness of the crisp autumn day belied the unfathomable depth of sadness Neville was feeling, but he knew it was the kind of day Hannah would have loved. The feeling had gone from Neville's knees, but he remained kneeling beside the gravestone whose words didn't quite capture the teasing, playful, radiant woman he knew. _Hannah Longbottom, loving wife, devoted mother._

Neville didn't notice the tears rolling down his cheeks until one dripped onto his pant leg with a soft splash, leaving a small damp spot behind. He didn't care; he wondered if he'd ever care again. He'd rather lost track of the time when a gentle hand slid onto his shoulder. He wondered dully how he'd missed the crunching noise of the person approaching—but then, that would have required some sort of attention to something other than the grief that consumed him.

"Dad," his daughter's soft voice sounded behind him. He could feel her warmth as she bent closer. "Dad, Mum wouldn't have wanted you to be this sad." He felt her arms wrap around his shoulders as she knelt beside him, trying to get him to look away from the tombstone. He forced his eyes away from it, looking instead into his daughter's steady gaze and seeing Hannah's eyes reflected there, gently peering into his own. He heard another person approaching and knew his son was joining them.

"She's right, Dad," his son said quietly, coming to hover behind him. "She'd want you to keep living, to be happy and move on." Neville stood stiffly, feeling the truth in his children's words. He grasped his son's shoulder, reaching for his daughter's hand and holding it like a lifeline. The pair smiled at him, their faces full of the kindness and gentleness that Neville knew came from their mother. They exited the cemetery together, the petals falling softly from the flowers they'd left behind.


End file.
